Am I your muse?
by Forever in my Life
Summary: Nineteen-year-old Helga enrolled in a class she didn't need but signed up on an impulse. After procrastinating for a week on an assignment, she calls a good friend of four years over to help out. But he acts differently. Always knowing him as the gentlemanly type, his little antics are quite surprising. My first one-shot!
1. Chapter 1

Sighing again, I erased the same line I'd drawn at least for the thousandth time by now.

"Shortman!" I shouted, exasperated.

"What?!" Arnold yelled back, matching my tone. Apparently startled by my outburst since it's been quiet in my room for awhile now.

"Can you _please_ sit still? I've been trying to draw your jaw and ear for the past, like, 30 minutes and every time I think I've got it down or am close to getting it down, you squirm, and I have to start all over again!"

I tried to look as menacing as I could muster as I'm waiting for whatever dorky reply he'd give me.

"Sorry, Helga It's just hard to sit in this position for so _looonnggg_ ," he said, dragging out the last word, putting those puppy dog eyes on me.

I let out a frustrated growl, and he smirked pissing me off further. "You're such a whiner."

"And you're not?" I held back my impulses. I could have argued that but in glancing at the clock, I didn't have the time to spare. There was no time for the childish banter we typically find ourselves falling into.

"Well, what position do _you_ prefer?" I asked, rubbing my temples in frustration, I swear, I loved this boy, but he sure knew how to work a nerve.

"Mm," He hummed, his cheeks glowed while he wiggled his eyebrows at me cheekily. Oh man, what the heck is he about to say? "Uh," He snickered. "missionary, to be honest," he shrugged, his face devoid of emotion like it always was right before he cracked up at his own joke.

"Ugghh, fuck you!" I whacked him in the arm with my sketchpad; his shoulders shook as he roared with laughter.

When did he get so immature? I mean I know I hadn't spent much time with the guy, lately, but sheesh. Though, I'd be lying if I said I didn't find this juvenile behavior sexy on him.

"Uh, that doesn't sound so bad." my eyes widened in shock as his shinned with mirth. But finally, after a few seconds, he face-palmed briefly looking like the Arnold I knew. "Sorry..."

I scowled despite my real feelings floating just beneath the surface. "It's a good thing you're cute," I grumbled, crossing my arms and glaring.

"Why?" He asked, sporting a shit-eating grin.

"Because if you weren't, I'd be using this pencil to stab you, instead of using it to draw your stupid cute face."

"Oh my God, you think I'm cute?" Criminy, did I say that out loud? Twice? But it was too late to take it back because those amused green eyes were lazily moving up and down me. "Am I your muse?" He asked dramatically, openly taunting me.

"No, you're my pain in the ass," I rolled my eyes trying to hide any trackings of embarrassment.

He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically like the biggest geek, "She called me _her_ pain in the ass."

My jaw clenched as I battled the urge to bolt out of the room or slung him in the head. "Alright, Romeo, get your football head hormones under control! And sit your butt still!"

I hated how unfazed he appeared by my heated demands, faintly shrugging at me. "Only if I can sit on the floor, cross-legged," he said, smoothing his clothes.

"Whatever," I flicked a wrist at him dismissively. "Anything to get you to sit still," I stated with a pointed look, moving off the chair I was sitting on, to plop myself on my floor.

He paused, eyeing me but then quickly stepped off the stool, I initially sat him in and sat cross-legged in front of me. He turned his head to the side like he'd had it before, clenching his jaw.

I dragged my eyes away from the glorious sight of his unconventional side profile to sketch it more accurately. A few minutes had passed, the only sounds in the room were some relaxing music I'd put on a hushed volume, lead scratching on paper, and our soft breaths. I had moved on to drawing Arnold's shoulders, that seemed broader than the last time I admired them. I blew out a soft sigh trying to keep my hormones in check as I attempted to shade and outline right when his voice broke the tense silence.

"I never asked you what your project was for, Helga."

So used to the quiet, I almost dropped my pencil, leaving a curved line that I quickly erased.

"It's a drawing project, doi," I said snippily, dusting off the paper, trying to avoid answering this question truthfully.

"Oh wow, I didn't know that," There goes that dry sarcasm of his, that drove me nuts. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a smirk on his face before the conversation started up again. "I mean, why'd you pick me for it? Every assignment you've gotten so far in your drawing class has come with some prompt. Some reason behind why you're drawing the thing."

I pretended not to hear him, pretended I was too engrossed in shading the wrinkles of his loose hoodie.

" _Hellllga_ ," he dragged out my name purposely taunting me.

My cheeks heated up, and I bit my lip. There was no way he was going to drop the subject. He knew when he was getting under my skin. Shit, if I didn't know any better I'd say he was having a little fun at my expense.

Didn't it use to be the other way around? Kind of, sort of

I huffed before mumbling, "I'm supposed to draw someone…that–umm–that…"

"That?" He asked, his voice gentle, coaxing me.

"That I–basically a person–well someone…someoneIadmirethemost," I blurted, the words coming out slurred into one.

Crickets. It got dead silent. I didn't know what to say after that, and I certainly didn't trust my voice not to shake uncontrollably.

I finished drawing Arnold's hoodie and realized that the line of his upper lip hadn't come out right. Trying to distract myself from the fact I'd revealed some my real feelings for him, again. I looked up to study his lips only to find his wide eyes staring back at me.

My chin lowers, feeling suddenly shy being the cause of his intense gaze "I have to get your lips right," I said, my voice sounding strained to my ears.

Feeling awkward under his unwavering stare, I cleared my throat. He wasn't turning his head back to the original position, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I shuffled forward on my knees, so I was close enough and reached a finger out. Slowly, my finger glided over the curve of his jaw, and I heard his breathing hitch. I applied slight pressure as my finger reached the side of his chin. He obediently moved his head to the side. I let my finger linger on his skin a moment longer than necessary before pulling away and settling back in my original place to start again on the drawing.

It seemed that my words had sent Arnold into a strange kind of trance and anxiety settled in my stomach.

But I distracted myself with the task at hand, and my tongue stuck out as I tried to re-shape his lips on my paper. However, I looked up again to find Arnold had moved his head to stare at me again.

"On second thought maybe I should've chosen someone else. You can't seem to keep your neck turned," I chuckled softly, finding my sweet prince's antics far more cute than annoying than I would ever admit aloud.

"Sorry, it's just hard to resist looking at you," Arnold said with such softness. "for even a little bit," he mumbled, turning his head to look at me again his face turning a new shade.

I frowned because even though he was still weirdly flirting with me, I wonder where the confident, snarky guy had gone. Arnold now looked like a shy boy with flushed cheeks had come to take his place.

If wasn't for my fast thumping heart and flustered skin, I'd be laughing my ass off at him right now.

My heart fluttered at his statement, but I tried not to take it to heart. Because he couldn't possibly like observing me, staring at me, I'm nothing like his usual type. Trust me I've seen him with enough girls to know and accept it.

Huffing, I glance at the time and try to hold onto the last thread of my sanity. Despite how badly I wanted to, I honestly couldn't find the energy or the time to yell. "It's alright, just try to hold your head in place for a little longer. Lips have always been tricky for me to draw and yours are giving me an especially hard time," I giggled a little at the end, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

"Maybe you should kiss them," he suggested, and I dropped my pencil my eyes flying up. I bet a hundred smackers my eyes looked they were going to pop out of my head.

Of course, of _all_ times he chose _this_ one to keep his head turned away from mine. Still, I could see the edge of his lips quirk up a bit in one of those rare smiles that he gave when he felt equal parts shy and equal parts bold.

How could he suggest something like that so casually? Doesn't he realize what it does to me? If this was all his idea of a joke on Helga or revenge from all the years of adolescent torment, I'll kill him!

Then my eyes drift to that face, and I remember that despite all my threats, I never could ever hurt him even if he is still confusing and drives me nuts. "And just what do you expect that will do in helping me with drawing them, hm, paste for brains?" I asked, crossing my arms, all this pseudo flirtation was starting to wear on me.

"If you can feel the grooves of my lips, you might find it easier to draw them." He said so smoothly as if this was a common thing. "Drawing may be all about observing visually, but I think it benefits you when you observe sensuously as well,"

My head was spinning. I sat there, my head fighting between what I desired and what I logically knew to be smart to do.

"What harm could it do, Helga?"

I breathed in deeply. Arnold's voice, God it always was beautifully calming. The way he said my name must have put me under a spell.

I echoed his question in my head. Yeah, what harm could it do, Helga?

A million answers or outcomes to that question ran through my mind, but I focused on him instead. The delicious way his mouth froze in that soft grin, the way his eyelashes curled just the slightest at the ends making him look like a dream.

I moved to sit directly in front of him; his head froze in his pose. Finally, our eyes met. I melted as I watch his were adoring and in awe, gliding over my face, drinking me in. I moved in, slowly, until my lips were just brushing against his. Internally, I was screaming, shouting for joy, and laughing giddily but externally all that I could do before I pressed my mouth completely to his, was release a weak breath.

What registered first was the silky texture of his lips, and finally, the fact that he didn't press back.

I pull away abruptly, overcome with various, conflicting emotions; I looked him square in the eyes fighting back the urge to scream or cry.

"Why–why didn't you kiss me back?" I asked, my confusion quickly turning into a panic than anger. My eyes searched my room for all possible exists and weapons.

"Because you told me to stay still," he answered, eyes dancing with mischief, but his breath shallow; which told me I wasn't the only one affected by what I'd just done, so that put me more at ease. "Would you like to try again?"

The way he looked at me, was like nothing I'd ever seen from him. It sent chills through my spine, and down to my toes; I couldn't move an inch.

Shaking my head, I let out a breathy laugh while rolling my eyes playfully. That's when he gently placed his hands on either side of my cheeks and pulled me in for the sweetest kiss.

As we pulled back and regained our breath, I giggled, "You may be the worst model ever, but you're the best damn kisser."

Arnold bit his lip; his eyes half-lidded gazing into mine, laughing some as his fingers caressed my face and the corner of my mouth. "Well, then you've _gotta_ keep me around. Especially if you plan on drawing any more pictures of me and need more help with…observing…my lips," he chuckled once more, moving some hair behind my ear.

"Oh, I'm keeping you right where you are," I laughed before he pulled me in for another taste of his kiss.

I guess I'll have to get an extension...


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, I thought to write this from Arnold's POV too - hope you enjoy: P**

* * *

I can't remember the last time; she was this still and quiet. The light in the room flickered on her features, making them individually more visible. Her jean-clad legs, crossed, a thick stretch pad in her lap and perfectly sharpened pencil in between her fingers. I noticed the tip of her tongue stuck out as she etched lines on the page; just as she did whenever writing.

That told me this must be something she enjoys, maybe even loves.

I sighed a little, squirming in this position she put me in. Not only were my thighs starting to cramp, but there was this strange tension in the air, I couldn't ignore.

I guess my body involuntarily jerked again this time more obviously. "Shortman!" Helga wailed out with enough force to knock me off this stool. Does she have to be so forceful? That certainly broke the awkward silence.

Can't lie, secretly I do admire this side of her; especially since she only acts this way to get things done, protect herself or someone she cares about. Helga rarely barks orders around just for the hell of it.

"What?!" I tried to yell back, equally as harshly, but who was I kidding.

"Can you _please_ sit still? I've been trying to draw your jaw and ear for the past, like, 30 minutes and every time I think I've got it down or am close to getting it down, you squirm, and I have to start all over again!"

When Helga would talk like this, I would just give in or ignore it. But weirdly as I cautiously crank my neck to peek at her, I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath. She looked ridiculously cute even when pissed off. "Sorry, Helga. It's just hard to sit in this position for so _looonnggg_ ," I batted my eyes a little to tease her because I knew that would make her scowl and blush.

Mission accomplished, I smirked as she grunted. "You're such a whiner."

"And you're not?"

Helga paused and stared with this tense look on her face. Okay, I had a feeling she was about to blow, so I prepared myself for the inevitable. "Well, what position do _you_ prefer?"

Okay, even though she looked agitated, _that_ response I wasn't expecting. Since when do we compromise? Then again, the assignment is due tomorrow, and Helga has always been big on grades.

I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was the way her jeans hugged her toned legs that went on for days or the scent of orange and lavender coming from her hair. Or maybe it was how her full lips glistened beneath that pink lip gloss. Whatever the case, I found a grin forcing my mouth to spread out wider. "Mm," I looked up at her again, raising my brows. "Uh," I started with a laugh. "missionary, to be honest."

Holy shit, where did that come from; never in life had I said anything close to that out loud. And to Helga Pataki?

Who I knew Helga was no terror, but she was no saint either. I knew if I ever crossed the line and disrespected her, she would deck me a good one.

I could feel my skin heat up, but I tried to play it cool with a shrug. But then out of the corner of my eye, I caught the awestruck look on her face that cause me to burst into laughter.

"Ugghh, fuck you!" She shouted, hitting me with her stretch pad. Her slim frame slung back, and her eyes narrowed into that signature scowl of hers.

Oh, the wrong choice of words lady Pataki! I felt a constricting, throbbing sensation below my waist. And I no longer had control over my tongue; "Uh, that doesn't sound so bad," I couldn't help myself, no other girl could bring this side out of me except Helga. Unlike in the past, now I'm not holding back. All of my pent up desire had no other options but to come out. There was also something else mixed in that emotion that had been lying dormant for way too long. It all needed to make an appearance I guess.

I had to laugh at myself, at the situation at her wide-eyed reaction. But then I suppose what I said settled in, and I had to face-palm. Alright, Shortman, calm yourself down, this is Helga Pataki, your _friend._ Get your hormones in line and be a gentleman. "Sorry…" I whispered feeling my skin flush.

I turned away still able to see Helga's mouth hanging open, followed by that stubborn glare of hers. "It's a good thing you're cute."

"Why?" I asked turning to her.

"Because if you weren't, I'd be using this pencil to stab you, instead of using it to draw your stupid cute face."

Wait, Helga called me what? Does that mean she finds me attractive? She said it twice. "Oh, my god, you think I'm cute?" I drank in Helga as she looked visibly embarrassed. I let myself revel in it a little; I couldn't help it. I guess all those years of being on the receiving end of the teasing had gotten to me a little. "Am I your muse?"

"No, you're my pain in the ass,"

Her eyes rolled, but her cheeks were still bright as her shirt. Oh, God was this getting interesting. I gasped exaggeratedly and grasped at my chest. "She called me _her_ pain in the ass."

I glanced over to find those big blue eyes of hers shifting, finding the clock before pushing out a sigh. "Alright, Romeo, get your football headed hormones under control! And sit your butt still!"

As much as I was enjoying myself, it hurt to stay in this position so long. "Only if I can sit on the floor, cross-legged," I suggested, hoping Helga would bend and take mercy on me.

"Whatever," She irritatedly muttered. "Anything to get you to sit still," A strong whiff of her hair sent my nerves on a wave when she plopped down on the rug.

I stared and blinked, feeling awkward when caught by her, but played it off as I calmly hopped off the stool to plop right in front of her.

Remembering the importance of the assignment, I turned my head the way she instructed before.

But I felt my jaw clench tightly. It was hard to keep my composure, sitting so close to someone as talented, unusual (in a great way) and striking as Helga. I honestly just wanted to touch her hand, grab her shoulders and hug her…kiss her on the cheek. Something! _Anything!_

Instead of making any kind of move, I find myself just focusing on the present, allowing my mouth speak my curious mind. "I never asked you what your project was for, Helga."

Helga's wrist jerked at that, and I smothered a chuckle or two. It always struck me as odd how the simplest words or actions always startled someone who boasted about fearing nothing.

"It's a drawing project, doi." She snapped, stating the obvious while not answering my question.

Typical Pataki. "Oh, wow I didn't know that," I watched her and smirked as she continued etching lines into the pad apparently trying to avoid this subject for whatever reason. Her gaze shifted over to give one of those 'if looks could kill' expressions. It's both adorable and funny seeing her flustered while trying to look intimidating. Shouldn't she know by now I see through that shit? "I mean, why'd you pick me for it? I'm sure every assignment you've gotten so far in your art class has come with some prompt. Some reason or meaning behind it." Time ticked on and still...nothing but silence. No way was I just going to let it out go and change the subject. " _Hellllga_ ,"

"I'm supposed to draw someone…that–umm–that…"

"That…" I added, trying to push out whatever it is she felt so uncomfortable about revealing to me. What's the problem anyway? She should know she can tell me anything; we've been close for a long time now.

"That I–basically a person–well someone…someoneIadmirethemost," She rushed out all in one word.

it took me a second or two to register what she said. When it did, my mouth dried. I don't know why something so straightforward and innocent as that affected me as much as it did.

Maybe it's because, out of the four years we've been friends, Helga never was the complimentary type. Or maybe it was that in my heart; I knew there lied some deeper meaning to her words than what was on the surface.

I couldn't control my eyes from dancing over to her every few seconds trying to gauge her reactions. And also, just to take in - well everything about her.

"I have to get your lips right,"

The shaky smallness of her lovely alto voice made my heart flutter. Despite knowing I was disobedient, I kept up my antics. It wasn't my fault that she just kept getting more beautiful and intriguing by the tick of the clock.

I held my breath when I felt her fingers on my chin, gently coaxing me back in my place, to which I obliged. My skin felt cold when her hands left off my face to begin drawing again.

I couldn't help but watch her in awe. Those simple words must have put a spell on me.

"On second thought, maybe I should've chosen someone else. You can't seem to keep your neck where it's supposed to be." Helga's soft giggling made my heart soar in ways unlike ever before.

"Sorry, it's just hard to resist looking at you." I said honestly with an exhale. "for even a little bit," on that note I had to turn away as I feel my cheeks warming.

Did I just confess to her? Those feelings that I had been holding in for about two years?

I had no idea what she was thinking, but the silence was killing me.

Even though she had a pained look on her face, I was relieved when she finally spoke up. "It's alright, but just try to hold your head in place for just a bit longer. Lips have always been tricky for me to draw and yours are giving me an especially hard time,"

My eyebrows quirked at the exhaustion written in her body language. What was this? Did she not hear what I said? Are my instincts leading me wrong here? I look at her again, the increased peachy color on her cheeks. Nah, at least I hope not...

So, I figured since I've been this bold, I might as well go in for the kill. I mean how else am I ever going to get out of the friend zone. I've been too passive about my ever-growing feelings for her. "Maybe you should kiss them."

Turning away, I knew those eyes of hers were stretched to maximum ability. Never had I said these kinds of things before, and I was overwhelmed with myself, so I know she was. But all I could think about selfishly was if those feelings she admitted to me and then took back were still lingering somewhere inside of her.

My mouth picked up on the ends as I relived the time she told me loved me. The times years after that she did amazing things for me, and we settled into a weird, but never boring friendship.

Over the years, if I wasn't with Gerald and the guys, chances are I was with Helga. On my couch, watching some terrible movie marathon.

The two of us always _almost_ snuggling, her head _almost_ leaning on my shoulder. That scent of her sending shockwaves to my brain every time I'd take in an inhale.

It had been equal parts enjoyable and frustrating watching Helga develop into this lovely person I've always known she had the potential to be.

Don't get me wrong; she's still the same Helga in some respects; which is great, but now she's much more confident letting other lesser known sides of herself shine. Sometimes when the two of us are alone, she'll fall into one of her romantic moods, and I'll luck up on getting to hear one her thousands of beautifully written poems or stories. Gosh, it just hit me how she's mastered many things, and honestly, from the looks of it, drawing was no different.

It's been frustrating because, well - other guys have taken notice of her. And not just Brainy or my cousin Arnie.

No offense to Brainy or Arnie, but I mean some of these guys had looks that could rival any heartthrob on TV or in the movies. I couldn't blame them, Helga was a hell of a catch. One of those rare combinations of brains, brawn, and beauty.

Fortunately for me, most of the time, she seemed unimpressed or indifferent. But of course, there were times she'd go out on dates. And I was left at home realizing how she _might_ have felt in the first two years' of our friendship when I dated every cute girl I saw.

I suck my teeth at the memory. Pttff, what a waste of time, when I had the perfect girl for me right under my nose.

But on the upside, at least I got that girl craziness all flushed out of my system.

Anyway, I wasn't going to arrogantly think that because she crushed on me or was in love with me in the past that she still did. My eyes flick over to her, how can I assume this gorgeous and intelligent nineteen-year-old young woman was still holding on to feelings she developed when we were small children. I couldn't risk losing everything we built together over the years.

So, in recent days, I'll admit, I've been avoiding Helga. It's all gotten to be a bit too much hiding my growing attraction, my urges to not only to get physical with her but to do all the little things, like hold her hand and walk her to the door after a date. After all, she's done for me and continued to do, she deserves the world, and I want to give her that more than anything.

This assignment was a convenient excuse to get to be close to her without risking anything I guess.

"And just what do you expect that will do in helping me with drawing them, hm, paste for brains?"

Her sharp voice brought me back to the reality of the moment. She looked irritated as she folded her arms across her chest. Hey, there was no turning back now, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "If you can feel the grooves of my lips, you might find it easier to draw them. Drawing may be all about observing visually, but I think it benefits you when you observe sensuously as well,"

I study her, how her face softened as she stares in my direction without quite looking at me. I feel she's just nervous, unsure of my intentions.

But I could never _really_ know with her. "What harm could it do, Helga?"

When her eyes finally found mine, I froze into whatever expression my face was doing. Hopefully, I didn't look like a huge geek or worse like some creep.

My worries soothed when she moved closer to me with a sharp vulnerability in her doe-eyes. I held in the intense desire to grab her waist. Instead, I just absorbed everything as I felt the softest lips touch mine. Shit, okay Arnold calm down…it's like, I didn't want to scare her off by jumping all over her, so I ended up just sitting there like a frog on a log.

Helga pulled back from, her eyes wide with confusion, hurt and tracings of anger. Mentally I face-palmed, what a jerk she must think I am. Damnit, my heart ached when she looked me directly in the eyes, I've never seen her so embarrassed and sad. "Why–why didn't you kiss me back?"

Yeah, you damn fool, why didn't you? Okay, enough stalling; think fast! "Because you told me to stay still," I tried to smirk or appear as if this was a humorously crafted ploy and not late teenage awkwardness. But I think my slightly heavy panting gave away the trappings of my heart. That is if Helga's softened jaw was any indication. "Would you like to try again?" I asked my voice sounded like the lovesick puppy I felt like.

I knew my face was doing the same when Helga flicked a quick blush shaking her head with an eye roll. Okay, time to stop being a punk and take matters into your own hands, Arnold. I gently grabbed both sides of her face and pulled into me. Her lips against mine felt even more divine. The need for oxygen was the only motivator for pulling away.

Helga giggled with her eyes still half closed. "You may be the worst model ever, but you're the best damn kisser."

Whoa. Okay. If Helga G. Pataki makes a statement like that, you know you've done something right! Won't lie, it did set me on an ego high. "Well, then you've _gotta_ keep me around. Especially if you plan on drawing any more pictures of me and need more help with…observing…my lips," I tried to be subtle, but Jesus Helga was cute, gorgeous, sexy; her scent drove me wild. I chuckled at myself as I found my hands gently stroking her soft skin.

Again, I think I was doing something right because her face spread wide into a grin. "Oh, I'm keeping you right where you are,"

She started to laugh, but I cut her off to get just another sweet taste of her lips…

As I'm sure, this could go on for _hours, e_ very time we broke apart one of us pulled the other back in, each kiss tender and passionate.

I sighed as I watched her looking over at me, resting on her palms, her bottom lip caught under her teeth. My eyes found some way to flick to the time then back to Helga. I'm usually responsible, but fuck it, mentally I threw papers in the air.

Like - What art class?

Maybe I'll wait till tomorrow to ask her out officially,

I smile at the idea of having such a chance, of having my dreams finally realized.

My eyes lazily moved up her body to her face, and my desires mixed with hers sealed our lips again.

Maybe I'll wait a few days after a real date or two to tell her; I love her.


	3. Chapter 3

The final chapter - Helga's POV

* * *

I woke up to the sound of someone banging around in my kitchen. Okay did Bob come back?

What the hell, I thought. The Pataki's minus one, are supposed to all be away for the weekend. I was alone except for–

My hands searched blindly over the comforter. Arnold should be in bed beside me since he randomly decided to stay over for the weekend. But instead, the spot next to me was void of him.

I heard some mumbling coming from the kitchen and untangled myself from the sheets, wondering what he was doing in the kitchen at fucking four o'clock in the morning.

I tripped over the rug, swearing, my vision bleary with sleep. I was ready to chew hair boy out, but as I reached the kitchen, I saw him sitting there. It was a funny sight, he sat in the chair at the breakfast bar island, hands intertwined as if he was making a deal with some invisible business partner across from him.

"I just–I've had all these thoughts of you for years, and even though we're together now, I can't find a way ever to say them," I heard him slur, his words running together with sleep.

Oh, my god, he's sleeptalking, I thought, a lazy grin tugging at my lips.

Curiously, I walked to the other side of the island and leaned over it, careful not to make a sound and wake him up.

His eyes were half-open, and he looked stoned, but despite that, my heart swelled at how cute and innocent he looked. His eyebrows were knitted together making him also look concerned.

He didn't register I was standing in front of him and scratched at his puffy-from-sleep cheeks.

"God, like, you're so beautiful, Ya know?"

I stood still, leaning, my whole body froze and my breath caught in my throat.

"And, I feel so out of your league, because you are so perfect to me and when I look at you I wonder how I got so lucky. Let me tell you, since day one of college, even back when we were just friends; all the guys kept asking me how I managed to get close to you. Now they ask how'd I get close enough that you agree to date me and I keep telling 'em, I just don't know," his eyebrows raised lazily, eyes not focusing on me even though my face was two feet from his. "I wish you could hear the conversations guys would have about you before you were mine. And of course, some idiots still talk as if they can steal you from me. But that's just it, you're so loyal, and I keep telling them that, but they keep saying no guy like me can keep a girl like you; probably because I'm so average."

Huh? I'd use a lot of words to describe my love and average isn't one of them.

His face became devoid of emotion for a second, and his body wavered in the seat. I thought he was going to topple off it for a second, but he grabbed a mug that I didn't see before off the island and sipped air from it. I couldn't help the soft cackle that escaped my lips. He must've been thinking he was drinking something when in reality he was sucking air into his mouth from an empty mug. I wish I had my phone to record this, but I couldn't steal my eyes or ears away from this to get it.

"You make the best food. You think you're a horrible cook, but seeing all those splotches of whatever you're cooking all over your cute face makes any burnt piece of food worth it." He sighed dreamily. "I hope you love me because if you didn't this conversation would be awkward," he went quiet for another few moments. "I planned on telling you since the day of your art project. Yeah, that was ages, but I'm a wimp like you always say."

My face was on fire. Arnold Shortman said he loved me. I've been waiting on this for a long time, so I wished I could tell him too, but he's asleep, and I'd want him to be entirely conscious.

My hand, of its own accord, slid over the back of his and I stroked the soft skin. His eyebrows knitted together a bit again, and he shook his head, apparently upset with dream-me.

"No, Helga. Shhhh," Arnold slurred, sloppily placing his finger on his pink, puffy lips, and then dropping it to grasp the empty mug again. "You need to listen." I rolled my eyes, I don't know how this conversation is going in that head of his, but he should know from experience to never 'shh' me "You're so important to me. Like more important than anyone else. The thing that made me fall even deeper in love with you is how sweet you are, no matter how much you try to hide it. While still managing to be the baddest chick I've ever met. You are such a badass, Helga, you intimidate me, sometimes. I'm sorry for babbling, but I love how your eyes shine and glow in the sunlight. You also have the cutest way of pouting when you're frustrated or sticking your tongue out when you're feeling particularly inspired when focusing on your homework or your hobbies. And, oh my god the hottest thing is when you get so passionate and riled up about something. I could sit and watch your pacing and listen to your rants all day long. Your intelligence is the sexiest thing about you, and that's saying a lot." He paused, and I thought it was lights out, but he continued. "Speaking of sexy, love tracing your little birthmark. You don't like it, but I do."

He took another "sip" from the mug, but I didn't giggle this time. His words were unfiltered, and instead of complaining about me in his dreams he was professing his love to me. It occurred to me that we've never found it easy to tell each how we felt, so this was something that could go unspoken for a while if I hold onto old habits.

"I just wish you knew how much my body craves you when you're not near me and how even if we're just lying together, you might call it boring but I am completely content," he sighed, his voice quiet.

I wanted to kiss him badly right now. He looked so small and vulnerable, and so irresistibly cute. Dark circles under his eyes told of many late nights, many he'd spent with me, listening to me rant. I didn't know he enjoyed listening to those angry declarations of mine so much. But now that I think back I remember how with a glance at him; his eyes were so full of something hard to pinpoint in those moments, that I can now.

Love. He looked at me like a man smitten. And here he was telling me little details about me he cherished like jewels, in his sleep.

His body slumped over the counter, and I realized he'd finished.

Moving to his side of the island, I placed my lips on his cheeks, giving him a small peck. He hummed in what sounded like approval.

"Let's get to bed, my sweet football head," I whispered in his ear, hoping he would either wake up or follow me to bed in his sleep. There was no way I'd be leaving him out here.

I moved my lips to the back of his neck, right above the first bone of his spine poked out from his white sleep shirt. Giving him a tender kiss on his favorite spot, his body moved to crush me in a very warm and sleepy bear hug. When he released me, I was disappointed to see his eyes still in their half-open state. He hadn't woken up. At least he was responding to me.

Gingerly, I slipped my slender hand into his large one and led him to the bedroom once again. I tucked him and me into the bed, but before I could move back to my side former position, Arnold pulled me into his side, so close you couldn't slide anything between us.

"Mine," he growled, and I was surprised by the ferocity and intensity in his voice. It made my toes curl.

Seconds later I heard his soft snuffling snores caressing my ear in hot breaths, and I fell asleep to the warmth of his body and his heart beating under my ear.

—–

My eyes opened sleepily to the soft glow of sunlight that warmed my room, indicating it was the first rays of the morning.

What could have possibly woken me up this early?

That's when I felt my answer on the nape of neck in the form of two soft lips. Arnold had spooned me at some point in the night, and I gave no indication I was awake now, pondering over whether to tell him what I had witnessed last night.

I resisted the urge to let out a satisfactory sigh as those lips traveled languidly lower down my neck, tugging gently at the top of my shirt to trail his kisses further down.

"Damn clothes always have to get in my way."

My insides twisted at his husky voice and the feel of his hot breath against my skin. I had to resist the urge to chuckle at his frustration. I had listened to him complain before about my "damn clothes" whenever our kissing started getting heated several times since the end of our 'courtship'.

He moved his lips to my ear and ran his tongue along the top of it, pulling my hair gently away from the side of my face. My breath hitched, but I tried to keep my facial expression neutral, not wanting to give away I was awake. I could feel his hot breath against my ear, coming in soft puffs.

"I love you," he mumbled, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

The words, and the passion and tenderness with which he said them broke me into a million pieces and molded me back together again in a more beautiful way than before. He moved away from my ear, resting his head on the pillow we were sharing, his outstretched, toasty hands under my shirt, drawing patterns on my stomach.

"I love you so goddamn much," he whispered to himself it seemed, and I heard the awe in his tone.

I couldn't play possum anymore. I flipped over, to Arnold's shock and laid my body on his and attacked with my lips, feverishly. I kissed him hungrily, and our labored breathing and small grunts of pleasure were the only sounds in the quiet, still morning.

"You idiot! You're driving nuts!" I gasped before his teeth captured my bottom lip and tugged gently before releasing. "I love you, too," I gasped.

We stopped and stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, cheeks flushed with passion and shyness. Our eyes studied every feature of our faces and memorized the love that was stirring in our expressions.

Arnold brushed away a flyaway and tucked it behind my ear.

"You are unbelievable," he smiled, looking at me like I was a million bucks.

"You're not so bad yourself," I sighed, caressing his confused face when I started giggling. "You're also a sleep walker and talker," I snorted as his face flushed even redder.

"Oh shit," he groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

As many awkward moments I've been in, I know how he felt. But it didn't stop me from laughing my face off. "You were blathering away about me last night," I nudged him with my nose on his cheek as he let out a string of muffled grumblings.

"Damn, did I?" He buried his face in his palms. "Shit, sorry, I didn't know," His chest rumbled with his husky morning laugh I just wanted to bottle up so I could hear it whenever tempted. "I need to find a way to stop that from happening again," he said, pulling his hands from his face, and resting them on me, rubbing my back.

"Hmm, yeah be careful because next time I might take advantage of you," I grinned and ignored the way his green eyes darkened. "Did I ever tell you about the time I slept walked as a child?"

"Hmph," He grumbled pressing his lips rather rough against mine. "Later."

"Hey, fuck-Arnold, let me finish."

"Nope," His hands scooped me up to lift me on top of him, cupping my ass in the process. "let's finish this first." Before I could chastise him, he captured my bright lips in another passionate kiss, leading to more confessions of love and intense explorations of each other.

—–—–—–

The end, for real this time;P


End file.
